Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2018
Eyes of ember and coals of funeral pyres
I gaze there in your fearsome countenance
Your mouth the ****** maw of destruction
****** teeth rip and tear
...the flesh of those I love

You are the cancer of hell
that eats the precious life of the soul

With a wicked smile
you hum the song of the gallows
..as you sharpen your sickle
ready for the harvest of bone crushing beheadings

On the edge of the mourning madness
weight of grief size of the millstone
then have I walked through dark graveyards
final resting place of rotting
skulls and bones

Epitaph
  Eulogy
    fade like the flowers at the grave and blow away
       dust into wind
Dust to dust , ashes to ashes...
   Worse yet the graves unmarked

Blood spills out drop by drop
one stroke and the next of the pendulum
   second by second you are erased, fading to black

Sand pours our grain by grain on the hourglass
resting on the monolithic slab of your putrid grey black altar behind you
also resting there the glass syringe with infinitely sharp needle
filled with a green somewhere between gangrene and neon radioactive waste
  one pinprick, the drug of desperation and suicide
    course through the veins of the walking dead

Surely you mock us
and dance near the empty grave that awaits us all
bringing venomous spittle to your mouth
so you can spit in our face to further humiliate us

Decay, corruption and rot
Your perfume with which your anoint yourself at every dawn

Waiting for the candle of life to flicker
so you can be the breath to blow it out
Forging  nails that pierce both saint and sinner
through heart, hands and feet

Your bony hand opens the veil to eternity

Vile and poisonous shadow asp
some day I will feel your bite
as you cut the silvery cord that joins soul to body

There are no words to describe your merciless cruelty
You are incapable of leaving behind anything behind
besides empty gaping loneliness

I HATE YOU, YOU ******* - I think of your sadistic ****** every time I walk down the center of town
And see the funeral home
Where there was the wake of my dear mom
Sergio Dark Wolfe
Written by
Sergio Dark Wolfe  57/M/Moonlit Forest Glen
(57/M/Moonlit Forest Glen)   
794
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems